Madness of the Wolf
by wibblywobblywesteros
Summary: Jaime wondered in that moment if Sansa was utterly mad. She was a broken and very lonely young woman and it seemed that her circumstances were more difficult than most young women had to endure. Yet she had come to an enemy of her house, tried to seduce him into producing an heir, confessed that she wanted to kill him, than admitted to feeling safe in his presence.


It wasn't supposed to go like this. Jaime was supposed to rescue Sansa Stark from the clutches of Petyr Baelish and bring her home to Winterfell with the help of Lady Brienne. Instead, Brienne was dead, Jaime was taken to the sky cells, and if Sansa was even here, she had remained hidden from him.

Jaime knew that Tyrion had spent time in these cells once. They had never really spoken of it. He hadn't expected that this imprisonment which was free of chains to still seem as confining as it had been under Robb Stark. Nearly a moons turn had passed without so much as a word from Baelish. The guard came twice a day with food and besides that he was left utterly alone. Then one evening the cell door was opening and _she _was entering.

Her hair was auburn as her mother's had been and Sansa was wrapped in a dark green cloak. He was about to ask her many questions about how she came to be there and why she was here to see him now when she dropped the cloak from off her shoulders and revealed that she wore no clothes underneath. She was no longer the shy maiden he remembered but was a very beautiful and confident young woman. She strode to him, barefoot, her long hair falling about her face and only half covering her breasts. His body responded when she climbed onto his lap, straddling him so her bosom pressed close to his chest. Jaime opened his mouth to try to speak again and she kissed him before he could say one word.

Her lips were soft and warm and her mouth tasted of mint. It had been a very long time since he'd been with a woman and though he had no idea why Sansa had come to him like this, he found that he wanted her all the same. His arms came around her and he felt her backside, while she began to work at the laces on his breeches. Her breathing quickened and her face grew flush when his manhood was freed of his clothes. He took her hips and lowered her into place. She was tight and not nearly as wet as she should be but she made the effort herself to sheath him fully inside her. She bit back a noise and he didn't take time to wonder about her silence. He thrust into her again, taking a nipple into his mouth and this time she cried out. Wrapping an arm around her, he shifted them both so she was lying on the floor and he was on top of her. Only a few more thrusts and his body was pulsating, spilling seed inside of her. He rested his weight on his elbows, nearly collapsing on her as he caught his breath.

"Let me go Ser." Sansa said worriedly from beneath him.

He lifted his head but didn't let her up. "What are you doing Sansa? Why did you come to me like this?"

She closed her eyes, a few tears spilling out. "Just let me go."

He moved off of her and she scurried across the cell and grabbed her cloak. As she wrapped it tightly around herself he noticed the blood on her thighs. He glanced down and saw blood on himself as well. She had been a maiden.

"Sansa wait!" He called out to her as her hand reached for the cell door. She stopped but not turn to face him. "Why? Why me? Surely, you could have any knight in this whole castle…"

She glanced back at him worriedly and then made a wordless escape.

Seven hells! What had just happened? Why had Sansa Stark come to him to break her maidenhead? Had Baelish forced her to do this? Had she come of her own free will? If so, for what purpose? Jaime wrestled with his thoughts for most of the night, unable to sleep.

Late the next day Sansa returned to him. She was fully clothed this time and she carried a plate of hot food from the kitchens for him.

"You came back. I thought you might not, after yesterday…" Jaime said.

"I brought you food, Ser."

He took it wordlessly and ate. The two meals a day that Baelish had sent down to him were hardly enough. Jaime was always hungry lately. He was thankful that Sansa had brought food. She watched him for half a minute before joining him to sit on the floor of the cell. He continued eating, waiting for her to explain herself in her own time.

"I needed your help. That was why I came, Ser. I still do." Sansa finally said.

Jaime gazed at her quizzically. "How exactly does deflowering you, help you?"

"Petyr wants to annul my marriage to Tyrion so that he can arrange a new match for me." She said sadly. "He had hoped to do that by proving I was a maiden."

"I see. So you have thwarted his plans, but to what end?"

"To many ends...for one, I wont be forced into any marriage of Littlefinger's making… the others I would prefer to never speak of but I suppose I must…" Sansa picked at the folds of her dress nervously. "It was for revenge."

"Revenge?"

"I would apologize Ser but I'm not sorry, not truly." She continued to pick at her dress.

"Who was this revenge intended for?" Jaime asked.

"Littlefinger...and Cersei." She admitted.

He was doubly confused. "How?"

"When I lived in the Capital, Cersei did everything she could to make my life hell. I know she cared for you…."

Jaime's eyes widened, understanding dawning on him. She had indeed gotten what she wanted. No other woman had ever convinced him to betray his loyalty to Cersei and Sansa Stark had done so in one evening.

"And Petyr pretends to care for me but he only cares for himself." Sansa was saying. "He wants power and he planned to use me to get it. I thought it was time to take power for myself...you said when you came here that you wanted to help me, that you wanted to bring me home to Winterfell...but you know as well as I that with Tomen as king, Cersei will not allow me to go home. She will want to see me executed for Joffrey's death. As long as she still holds power, I can never be Sansa Stark, I can never go home... but I can be Sansa Lannister if I must...Tyrion might be dead for all we know...your father clearly wanted a Lannister Stark alliance...Cersei can't object to following your father's wishes..."

Jaime could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Sansa , even if I do get out of here, I can't marry you. I'm still sworn to the kingsguard and until we find Tyrion alive or not..."

"I don't need you to marry me, only to give me a child." She said quietly.

"You're serious." He said incredulously. "What will you do? Continue coming here to fuck me until you're with child?" He was slightly angered.

"Something like that."

"Why would I do that? Am I supposed to be grateful that you'd grace me with your cunt?"

"You seemed to enjoy it well enough last night." She said evenly.

"I came here to rescue you, not to fuck you." Jaime said, frustrated.

"If you do this, then you _are _rescuing me." Sansa glanced over at him. Her eyes were pleading.

He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I didn't know you were a maid. I'm sorry if I hurt you before."

"You didn't. Not really."

He sighed. "If I agree to your plan, does that mean I'm stuck in this cell for good?"

"No. Petyr will leave the castle eventually on some business or other and when he does I'll set you free." She told him.

"I have your word on that?" Jaime asked.

"Yes. On my honor as the last of House Stark, I will set you free the moment Lord Baelish leaves the Vale."

Jaime laughed. "Stark honor. Alright, I believe you then."

She took the dinner plate from him and set it on the floor next to her. He reached for her then and pulled her into his lap. She didn't protest. She still tasted of mint when he kissed her and her skin was warm and flush. He took more time to bring her pleasure than before. He certainly didn't think himself in love with the girl but she was a beauty and he was more than able to appreciate her body. He couldn't imagine not at least treating her gently and he hoped he could do more than that for her by bringing her a little pleasure in the end. He carefully laid aside her clothing and ran his hand over the swell of her breast and the curve of her hips. When he finally did go inside her she was still too dry as she had been before.

"Are you sure you want this?" He whispered from atop her.

"Yes." She replied but her voice was shaken.

"I can stop anytime. Just tell me to."

"No." She said firmly this time. "Don't stop."

He thrust into her and she did very little to meet his thrusts. Still he continued until he had reached his climax and given her the seed she wanted from him. She didn't ask him to let her go this time but when he looked down at her he found her eyes closed tightly and her face streaked with tears. He rolled off of her and covered her body with her cloak.

"Sansa...I'm sorry..." He pulled his breeches back on. "But you asked me for this... " Jaime said concerned.

Sansa hugged the cloak tightly as she sat up and began pulling on her clothes. "I know I did. I hadn't meant to cry. It won't happen again." She said, getting up and fleeing to the door.

Jaime let her go. He felt sick with guilt and worry.

Sansa came to him again the next day bearing more food and a book so he would have something to occupy his time. He took her again and though she didn't cry this time, he found her no more ready for him than she had been the previous times. However, she didn't immediately move to leave when he rolled off of her. He lay on his side watching her, waiting to see what she would do. She lay staring at the ceiling and only half covered by her cloak.

"Maybe we shouldn't continue this." Jaime said.

Her eyes met his. "No, we have to. If Petyr learns that I'm no longer a maid he'll take me for himself. I can't... I can't be with him or bear his children... I _won't." _

"You're afraid of him." Jaime realized it ju_s_t then. "You're more afraid of him than you are of me."

"I'm not afraid of you." Her words said one thing and her eyes said another.

"It's alright to be afraid..."

Sansa choked back a sob and began hurriedly pulling on her clothes. Jaime grabbed her arm before she could flee. "Just tell me, did Baelish give you those scars?" He meant the marks on her back.

"No. Joffrey ordered his guards to beat me whenever I displeased him and also when Robb won battles and took you prisoner."

"Seven hells..." He breathed.

"I should go." Sansa said, pulling her arm free. He let her go.

She returned to him late the next evening with more food and a blanket as well. He ate while she lay the blanket out on the floor. She removed her shoes, let down her hair, and unlaced her dress, letting it fall to the floor. When he joined her on the blanket she wore only a thin shift with no small clothes underneath. They lay facing each other and she waited for him to kiss her or make some move to take her and he did nothing. The longer she waited the more restless she became, her confidence deflating with every passing minute. Then Jaime did something she had not expected. He reached over to her and pulled her into his arms, embracing her firmly and he just held her there.

"What are you doing?" She asked stiffly, after a few minutes.

"I thought you could use a hug."

"Why would you think that? That wasn't part of our... arrangement."

"Perhaps not, but you need it all the same."

Something inside Sansa broke at that, it was as if a wall she had made to protect herself came crumbling down. She began to weep, to sob uncontrollably in Jaime's arms and held her close to comfort her. Once all her tears were spent, he kissed her one time and went no further.

"Would you be missed if you were to stay here all night?" He asked her.

"I think not."

"Then stay. I ask nothing else of you tonight, just stay here and sleep and be hugged."

She nodded tentatively and nuzzled just a little closer to him. He awoke first in the morning and found Sansa still sleeping soundly in his arms. He didn't exactly like this _arrangement _of hers and he hoped to win enough of her affection that she would come with him when it was time to leave. He reached over and moved her hair off her cheek. She opened her eyes and graced him with a small smile.

"Why are you being kind to me?" Sansa asked him. "You could have forced me to let you out or thrown me over the edge of the cell...why did you really come here?"

"I came for exactly the reasons I told Littlefinger, to fulfill my oath to your mother and bring you home. As for being kind, I'm not a monster..."

"I suppose not... but you're a Lannister and I'm a Stark..."

"That doesn't mean I'm obligated to treat you cruelly...I could just as easily ask the same questions of you." Jaime pointed out. "You certainly could have avoided coming here and could have chosen to poison me rather than bring books or blankets. Why didn't you?"

Sansa visibly paled. She bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears. "I wanted to poison you. I thought that after I was with child I would put poison in your food...I'm sorry." She confessed. "I could never do such a thing now."

Jaime bit back his anger. "And why is that?"

"I feel safe with you...you were right when you said I was afraid of you...but I wasn't afraid you'd harm me. I was afraid you _wouldn't_...because it's a lot easier to kill someone if they hurt you..."

Jaime wondered in that moment if Sansa was utterly mad. She was a broken and very lonely young woman and it seemed that her circumstances were more difficult than most young women had to endure. Yet she had come to an enemy of her house, tried to seduce him into producing an heir, confessed that she wanted to kill him, than admitted to feeling safe in his presence. He realized he didn't care if she was mad. Cersei had known her own sort of madness and he had loved her anyhow. Whatever was wrong with Sansa wasn't going to stop him from trying to help her or from being attracted to her either.

"Sansa, I'm here to help you. I promise you that. But I can't help you if won't trust me. And if you kill me, you might destroy your only real ally." Jaime told her.

"Promises...trust..." She whispered, "I don't want promises. Most men don't keep their promises. I know that now. The words people say and the oaths they make mean far less than the things they _do. _You came here looking for me and I don't know if you want to bring me to Winterfell or back to your sister...I only know that you've been kind... that has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"It does." He said gently.

It was Sansa who reached for him and kissed first after that. When he took her that time, she was far more ready for him. She was wet and panting. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper inside her. He thrust into her slowly, languorously, and she cried out for more. They both increased their rhythm, desperately seeking sweet release and he felt her walls closing around him as she cried out his name. Her climax sent him over the edge and moments later he was pulsating inside her.

Sansa left him that morning and did not return that evening. He noticed that it was a full moon and

supposed that the coming of her moon blood might explain her absence. When she still didn't return

to him the next evening he began to worry and to miss her. On the third day she came back to his cell. She sent the guard away and brought the key inside with her.

"I am sorry I couldn't come before. Lord Petyr has guests in the Castle. I would have been missed."

"I thought it might be your moon blood..." Jaime said.

She shook her head. "No, my moonblood never came."

"I see. So I suppose that means our _arrangement_ has come to an end."

Sansa frowned, turning away from him she approached the edge of the cell and gazed down the cliffside. _"_I hadn't expected it to happen so quickly... but I've brought your key..." Her voice was breaking. "You're free to go."

"Sansa... come with me?" He pled.

"I can't." She began to cry. She held out the key behind her, still refusing to turn and look at him. So he went to her and reached for her hand. She wrapped her fingers around his hand firmly and pulled hard, sending him off the edge of the sky cell in one swift motion. Wide eyed, she watched him fall to his death, not turning away from the sight of his body until she heard the noise of the cell opening behind her.

Petyr Baelish strode in, arms crossed and smiling. "You did well my dear. You did _very _well."


End file.
